


You and me got a whole lot of history

by bruskenheimer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, 2018, Canon, History, Love, M/M, Maybe fluff, No Smut, Real Life, Two Ghosts, fluff?, if Larry is real, summer 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruskenheimer/pseuds/bruskenheimer
Summary: Broken and regretful, but ready for a change, Louis tries to make things right with the person he is missing, the one he still loves. A 2018 canon-based story where we explore what has happened, where they are now, and imagine how the two could actually come together, if Larry is real.**Louis looks up at Harry at the unexpected question and sees his soft, kind, but wary expression. It pierces Louis immediately, the tangle in his gut now catching fire, and his breaths quickening, trying to keep up with the sudden pounding in his heart. But this is why he’s here.**





	You and me got a whole lot of history

 

He’s finally ready to admit he made a mistake.

 

The streets have long grown quiet as Louis stares out from the balcony of his London home, unable to sleep, fifth cigarette momentarily forgotten in his fingers. Despite the chill outside, the fresh air and faint murmur of the wind is better than the stifling silence and loneliness of his bedroom. It’s always hard for him to return to his place after a visit with his siblings, being suddenly so alone after being surrounded by the voices and the faces and the love of so many others. But this time feels especially difficult, his drastic emptiness like the expansive manor he occupies, too large and too easy to disappear into.

It's been about three years since things started getting so complicated in Louis' life. The last few years, since the group’s announcement, have had their ups and downs. Perhaps mostly downs, but not entirely. Mentally scrolling through the past years of his activities, there _are_ moments he is proud of, moments that stand out, times when he thinks he was genuinely happy. He most enjoyed his work with his imprint label, making creative and executive decisions, just like he enjoyed taking charge among the 1D gang in their early days when the others didn’t want much to do with management and the business side of things. He recollects successful moments, times when people listened to his direction, when he felt confident in his abilities for once and appreciated for what he contributed all on his own. No one can take those things away from him, and that satisfaction glows as a dim ember in his current psyche.

A flash of Freddie’s face comes into his thoughts and that ember warms a bit more; but, the situation with his son comes with other complications that make the thought not entirely welcome at the moment. Searching for something else, his mind skips to the few unforgettable charity football matches he had the fortune of participating in. The kinesthetic memories of legs burning, running down a pitch, bring a tightness to his thighs and a slight grin to his lips.

Continuing to sift through the other aspects of his life over the past few years, his mind flips through the more painful thoughts – losing his mother…the upending of the family… the industry rejections… the fracturing of 1D… leaving him…  He pushes his thoughts toward the more palatable feeling of apathy, toward his music as a solo artist. He thought it was what he was supposed to do, just like the others. He thought it would feel good to prove himself, to step out from the shadows and the background harmonies and give his lyrics and his voice a chance to get the attention they deserve. And it’s not that his singles haven’t been received well, but that he’s not sure he’s really enjoying any of it like he thought he would. It’s why he’s been dragging his feet on finalizing the album, why he went for the idea of judging on X Factor. He’s not sure being a solo singer is meant for him, but if he’s not a performer, then who is he? His identity for so long has been about being on the stage, that the thought of taking it away feels like a wrecking ball to the very foundation he stands on.

Wanting to move past the now gutting feeling of the consequences of his singing career, but not landing on any more favorable thoughts, his heart grows heavy and his mind swims through the general haze of sadness that makes up his recent memories. Even the moments of satisfaction seem to have been hard fought with plenty of grueling hours and fits of anxiety along the way. His stomach lurches at the realization, at the pit of despair deep inside him, and he feels a sting in his eyes. His body becomes alert taking a swift breath in as he lifts his head to the sky, staring for a moment into the darkness and drawing a deeper breath of night air, followed by dropping his mouth to meet his hand and taking a drawn out drag from his cigarette.

He always misses his mother in these moments. He would tell her just about anything. And she was there for him through it all. She knew what he needed to hear, when he needed a push in the right direction, a boost of confidence, or even a kick in the pants. Though not entirely religious, he does believe she is still with him in some way. But it’s not the same as having her _here_ , looking into her face, feeling steady just by standing next to her.

Yet, he has mostly made peace with her absence. The grief will never go away for good, but it has been a year and a half, and he has come to terms with the reality of going on without her – having her in his heart but not in his life. He wishes her words could pierce through the ether now, but he knows not to yearn for them, that he will need to be the one to push through the darkness, to find a way forward on his own.

And so his thoughts drift to him, as they often do these days. He knows he has been watching all too many YouTube videos of Harry in the past weeks, mostly clips from his concerts, the last ones of his tour, but he’s even watched some of the old sappy videos put together by fans capturing their overly telling interactions. He can’t help it. It has been so long since they were…  that, something more to each other, that he is desperate to recall that feeling, that fondness, that warmth he felt in his life when Harry was a significant part of it.

It’s been so long since he has even seen Harry. He was close to going to one of his shows, but the crowds were crazy, the risk too high of being seen, and if he’s being honest, the likely pain too difficult to bring himself to bear. Though of course Louis has watched enough clips from the tour to know exactly what he looks like now, can picture the shape of his hair, the shape of his body, the passion in his face when he sings his new songs, the easy smile he has when engaging with the audience, the way he moves, the way he dances… Despite Harry’s incredible solo success, including his debut acting performance in a freakin’ Christopher Nolan film, Louis is somewhat surprised at himself for not being the least bit jealous. Well, at least not jealous of his artistic successes. He of all people knows just how talented Harry is, how fearless he is, and he is filled with so much pride and joy to see Harry be able to spread his wings and share his talents with the world. It’s really beautiful.

What does eat at him, though, is the way Harry seems to be truly free, truly himself, truly happy. Louis envisions Harry in his sparkly stage outfits, each one bolder and more gender-fluid than the next; Harry easily bantering with audience members and laughing at his own expense; Harry running around the stage with a rainbow flag, jumping boisterously with no abandon; Harry bringing himself to tears in front of a packed stadium; Harry conquering an entire stage all on his own. He is awed by Harry’s ability and courage to be unabashedly himself, but moreover he wishes he was able to be like him. To be open. To be honest. To be free.

He had the chance, to take that leap, and he chose to be safe instead. And now he realizes it was the biggest mistake he’s ever made.

That day. That conversation. Louis can practically see in the air in front of him how Harry looked that day, the wishful hope in Harry’s face, and then the despondent downturn of his eyes when it was all over. He wants to apologize now to the ghost, to take it all back. _Harry, I didn’t know what I was doing._

Harry had come over; they sat in the front living room, right in this house. Louis turns to face the interior, leaning back against the balcony wall, staring down and across as with x-ray vision into the space they occupied; envisioning where he sat, where Harry sat, what Harry was wearing. Things were already tense between them, as the group had recently determined to go on a hiatus, and they each knew that they had differing views on the matter. After some awkward banter to start, Harry gently made his case. He was sweet, optimistic, said all the right things, what anyone would ever want to hear from someone seeking a relationship again. Words as much a secret treasure to Louis as they are an open sore.

But Louis wasn’t ready to make the leap with Harry. He still loved Harry; he knew he never really stopped being in love with Harry – even after they moved into separate houses, even when the overnight visits stopped happening, even as they grew further and further apart. But in that moment, staring across at Harry on the opposite sofa, sitting at the edge of his own, feeling like everything in his life was on the line, he wasn’t willing to take the risk. Harry was proposing to be open, to step out into the unknown, to embrace the uncertainty for the possibility. But all Louis could imagine was the possibility of having it all come crashing down. He couldn’t imagine declaring his love publicly; he couldn’t bear to think what making that choice might mean for his career, for his family. Even though he didn’t like hiding things with Harry at first, he had since learned to look at other options; he came to see embracing a different direction as the safer path. And now he couldn’t bring himself to abandon the idea of life he had grown accustomed to, to turn away from the way of life that he was living… well, trying to live.

And, there was Briana, AND a soon-to-be son. Wasn’t that enough fear and uncertainty of its own? After ending things with Eleanor, and sensing the group starting to unravel, his life starting to unravel, he tried to find someone new, something to grab onto. Maybe he also wanted to prove to himself that he could be with a girl, that he could make such a life work. But then even that started to unravel, or more like explode. And then came the worst year of his life… trying to hold onto his mother, trying to uproot to LA, trying to get his solo music off the ground, trying to be a father, trying to be with Danielle… and yet mostly failing at it all.

Thank goodness for Eleanor. True, it may have started as mostly a cover-up, egged-on by management, but it turned into something more. She was a calming, normalizing presence amid the chaos of life on the stage, life in the spotlight. She showed her true colors, stuck by him through tough times. Getting back with her was a little bit like settling, but it was also the anchor he needed in the murky abyss he found himself in after a rough year. He knows he sincerely cares for her, that he enjoys spending time with her, that she is a good person. He thinks of how she is with Freddie, how she could probably be a good mother, a good wife. There are times that he thinks he could be happy with her, could make a life for himself with her by his side and maybe another kid or two down the road.

But something is missing. After all these years, no matter what he does or where he goes or who he is with, there remains an emptiness inside him. It’s as if slowly, gradually a pit of darkness has grown deep within him. Despite his best efforts to focus on his pursuits, to keep himself busy, to move on, to do what he thought would make him happy, the gnawing feeling inside him will not go away. For the past year or so he has continued to go through the motions, maybe even sometimes stumbled on a moment of happiness, but those moments are more and more fleeting. Everything has been growing harder, the time cascading by but the days dragging on. He feels lost, unsteady yet frozen in place. On a set of tracks that he no longer wants to be on but doesn’t know how to get off. And the pit in his being, the void in his soul, just grows deeper and deeper. He has tried to feed the emptiness with cigarette fumes… distractions… excuses… but he cannot ignore it anymore, not when it is so close to swallowing him whole, when the constant ache is keeping him from finding joy in anything anymore.

He suddenly feels so heavy, so weak, he literally sinks to the ground, back slamming into the wall of the balcony, sixth cigarette dropped mindlessly at his side. His knees pull up and he slams his face into his hands. A pain gnaws at his stomach, churning within him, and his eyes start to burn, pressed into his palms. The wave of it all crashes over him.

It’s him. It’s the absence of him. It’s the lies, the hiding, the pretending. It’s the exhaustion of years of trying to ignore it, of trying to be something else, someone else. It’s the futility of hanging on to what he thought was security at the expense of his own happiness. It’s the guilt, the people he has hurt along the way. It’s the weight of so many years, so many decisions, so many regrets.

His eyes start to water. He squeezes his eyelids tighter and going against his prior wisdom, he wills his mother to speak to him, to tell him what to do, to tell him everything will be all right. Every fiber of his being feels like it is collapsing into himself, and his soul is reaching out into the void for something to save him. Of course he does not hear her words now, but he remembers them. He remembers how she comforted him before; he remembers her loving presence. He _feels_ her love now, her warmth, seeping into him, filling his broken places. He wraps his arms around his knees, hugging himself tightly, thinking of her soothing embrace.

Slowly his breaths become steadier, his mind holding dear to the thoughts of her, to the way she made him feel better time and time again. He lets his mind relax, opens his eyes lazily to a blurry haze. He gives in to his exhaustion, his legs sliding out in front of him, his head falling back against the wall, his gaze staring blankly ahead. He breathes, in and out, in and out. His mind is blank, cleared out as from a flood. And he lets it just drip for a while, lets himself just be.

When the tide has mostly subsided and he starts to come back to his senses again, he feels a new conviction within. He is weak, tired, battered down, but the cool night air is breathing life into him, and he has a new sense of awareness, a consciousness, a clarity. He knows he has to do something; he has to make a change. He has to try, somehow, to seek what he is truly missing. He has to start the uphill climb toward finding and becoming his authentic self... and going after what he loves.

But not tonight.

 

~

 

 _Hey. Congrats on the tour, Haz. Seems to be a smash and hope you had a great time with it._ _I would really love to catch up soon and talk. Let me know if you have any time coming up, and if you’d be around and willing to see me. *Lou_

He gave himself a deadline of 7pm to send his text to Harry. Based on Harry’s Instagram, he seems to still be in LA after the conclusion of his tour. Which means he is eight hours behind London time and 11am should be a decent enough hour to receive a text. (And it’s not too late in London if Harry wanted to text back soon after, but he’s trying not to expect that, not to give his hopes up for any particular response.) Louis has needed the full day to draft a text anyway, well, after waking up late, slowly bringing himself to life, and deciding on some next steps for moving forward. He still keeps tinkering with the wording, debating how it comes across, restlessly sipping at yet another cup of tea in between pacing around the kitchen and staring back at his phone.

7pm. *send*

 

 

~~~~~

~~~~~

 

 

It feels like déjà vu, but with the roles reversed. Louis sits in Harry’s palatial LA home (painfully close to Louis’ own new LA house); he’s again on a sofa, trying to be relaxed but really feeling the tangle of nerves inside him. They’ve been chatting tentatively about Harry’s globetrotting and giving updates on each of their families. It’s not entirely easy or casual, but it is nice to see Harry again, to be in each other’s company. Louis’ tea is cold now, but it was nice of Harry to offer it, something that feels vaguely like past times.

“So... why are you really here, Lou?”

Louis looks up at Harry at the unexpected question and sees his soft, kind, but wary expression. It pierces Louis immediately, the tangle in his gut now catching fire, and his breaths quickening, trying to keep up with the sudden pounding in his heart. But this is why he’s here. He drops his head down to collect his thoughts, to gather his courage, what little he has. He thinks back on the past years, the pain, the emptiness, the feelings that led to the dark night of him collapsed on his balcony, the promise he made to himself since then. He digs into his brain and tries to recall the words that he practiced, just for this moment. Before he loses his nerve…

“Haz… I…” He pauses, changing the script. He looks up, right into Harry’s beautiful eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was wrong before… and before that, and before that.” He gets back on track and realigns his gaze. “I made a mistake, Haz. I never should have turned you down that day, turned away from us. I was scared. It was too much for me to handle then, and I thought somehow I could be happy, I could move on.” He feels like he’s rambling a bit, but he presses forward. “I miss you. I miss… us. I know I was the one that walked away, that was with other people, that pushed you away. But I still… care, about you.” Harry had averted his eyes but at those words shifts them back toward Louis. Louis considers his next words carefully, wonders if he can still say them.

“I still love you… Harry.” He briefly pauses, seeing no significant change in Harry’s steely posture, then hurries on. “And I don’t know how you feel. You have probably moved on and don’t want to think about us anymore, and I get that, I would understand. But, I needed to try, to, to tell you how I felt. I needed to say it and to say how sorry I am for all of it, for the way I treated you.” He hadn’t practiced this part as much and he feels his mind is starting to lose its grip, grasping for any words it can find. His nerve is wearing off and he needs to wrap it up.

He looks across at Harry, who has gone back to staring at the floor. “If there’s any way, if there’s any chance you could forgive me, that we could somehow try again, if you even still have feelings for me… I came here to say that that’s what I want. I know now that, I want you.”

And now the agony. As hard as it was to get himself here, to see Harry again, to get up the courage to say what he came to say, it now feels like nothing in comparison to waiting for Harry’s response. He thought he would feel better having gotten out the words, would feel some relief, but his chest only constricts tighter as the silence stretches between them. Harry is bent over, fidgeting with his hands but mostly still, eyes fixed on the floor. Louis’ skin starts to crawl, his heart torn between wanting to leap out of his seat to rush to Harry and wanting to sink completely into a hole in the earth below him.

Harry pushes himself up slowly, sitting upright but tense. His gaze meets Louis’ again, his face uneasy. “I don’t know, Lou. It’s… I mean, you hurt me.” His voice is even lower than before, clearly heavy and clouded. “I always wanted something, and you seemed like you did too, but then you kept me at a distance. And with the change with the band I thought maybe it could be a new start, but then… you didn’t want to.” Harry swallows and fidgets in his seat, quickly combs his hand through his hair. “It’s been so long. You’ve been with other people. You have a son! And, and Eleanor… what about her?” His voice is rising now, with agitation. Louis has tears welling in his eyes, listening to all his worst fears, realizing the pain and anger he has caused Harry.

“You’re saying you’ve just changed your mind? Do you not like girls anymore or something? I, I… I don’t know how to take this, Lou.” Their eyes meet. “It’s not that I don’t care. I’ll always care, about you, but… it’s been so long…” His mouth gapes as if he’s trying to think of something else to say, but the words don’t come. He drops his gaze and he just shakes his head lightly, drifting off.

Louis feels decimated. He doesn’t know how to respond, if he even should respond. He doesn’t want it to end like this, can’t possibly just give up now. His mind is swimming, battling his own pain for causing such hurt to Harry, for getting them in this mess, and trying somehow to make it right, clawing at any way forward, any possible hope. He is desperate, desperate for anything that can bridge the gap between them. Unconsciously some of Harry’s own words, well, lyrics, creep into his mind… _it’s ha-aard when we argue_ … _two hearts in one home_... He wonders if maybe they have ever crossed Harry’s mind as well. He feels at this point he has nothing to lose.

“Haz…” Harry raises his eyes weakly to meet Louis’. “This may be selfish of me to ask, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… are any of your songs about me?”

He doesn’t know if it was the right thing to ask now, if it will help his case or not, but he sees Harry’s face soften slightly and feels a little glimmer of hope. Harry keeps his eyes on Louis, but sinks back into his couch, relaxing heavy into it. He breathes long, continuing to look at Louis, his lips ever so slowly lifting into a tiny half-smile. Louis’ pulse quickens.

“Well… most people think Sweet Creature is about you, and maybe there was something… but, honestly I was thinking about Gemma with that one.” Louis nods, trying to keep hidden the sliver of disappointment he feels. “But, From the Dining Table, and… Two Ghosts…” Harry’s mouth twists. “Yeah.” And he darts his eyes away, skirting them around the room, as if a bit embarrassed.

Louis is taken aback. He suspected the one, but, two songs?! He racks his brain trying to remember the lyrics for From the Dining Table, something about _my phone misses your call_ … His heart sinks a little at the thought. But then his mind shifts to Two Ghosts, and how many times he has listened to it, over, and over, the feeling of loss in it that he has felt so keenly himself… _trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat_ … _we’re not who we used to be_ … He loses his sense of himself, hearing the melody play in his head, imagining Harry sing it. _we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me_ … His heart feels like a boulder.

When he turns back to Harry he realizes Harry has been watching him, probably trying to gauge his reaction to the confession. Harry interrupts his thoughts. “Do you know From the Dining Table?” Louis says “yeah” softly and nods, but Harry just continues. “The main line is ‘Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too.’”

The moment feels heavy. They stare at each other, the sentiment hanging in the air between them. Here they are, Louis doing just that, finally showing up and saying he’s sorry. But is it enough? Is it too late? Does Harry still want that? Does he still miss Louis? It’s too much for Louis to bear, and all at once he feels something burst inside of him.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve for you to forgive me. I don’t know if I could if I were you. I know I hurt you. I never meant to, I _loved_ you, but I didn't know what I was doing. I didn’t realize how much you meant to me. I was afraid of what would happen if we, came out, like that. I was never as brave as you, Haz. But now I know that no matter what would happen it would be worth it. I could deal with it, I would. Yes… I’ve been with other people and I went back to Eleanor, but… no one has ever compared to you.”

He’s not looking at Harry anymore, feels glued to the sofa but otherwise his entire body is electrified, gesturing and shaking, eyes generally focused on the floor between them. There are no more practiced thoughts, just words spewing out from his core, where everything has been locked away but can no longer be contained. He is a fit of desperation.

“Do I even like girls? Yes, I guess. I mean, I didn’t know I liked guys until you came along. But, does it even matter? What I know is that I like you. And that… that without you… not much else seems to matter. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt… whole, since… since we stopped… I feel like just, empty…”

Louis didn’t even notice Harry had gotten up but now he’s stopped by the view of Harry’s legs in his line of sight. He scans his eyes up – jeans, t-shirt, jaw – to discover Harry standing right in front of him. Harry’s expression is tender, though it’s hard to tell just how much compassion is underneath it, and hard to tell what he means to do. Louis just sits staring up at him, unsure if he should be worried or eager.

Without speaking, Harry reaches down to grab Louis’ arm, and in one tug pulls Louis up to standing, and immediately wraps his arms around him, in a fierce hug. Louis is stunned, but reciprocates by pulling Harry close, grasping his arms tightly around Harry’s back. The tears come now, quietly pushing themselves beyond the brim and down Louis’ cheeks. He doesn’t know what Harry is actually thinking but he doesn’t want to let go. He could stay in this embrace with Harry forever, feeling his skin once again, the firmness of his body, the warmth of him, the smell of him. It’s what he’s been missing – his presence, the way he feels when he is by Harry’s side – as if everything is all right in the world, everything is whole.

 

 

~~~~~

~~~~~

 

 

“Just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. We gotta get away from here... We gotta get away from here.”

 _God_ , Louis thinks to himself, _Harry is amazing_. It’s one thing to listen to him sing in a video online; it’s a whole other thing to get to hear him in person. And it’s an indescribable experience to get to sing _with_ him on the same stage, like Louis is about to do. It makes him think back to the 1D days, the many many stages they shared together through that time, the many ways they found to make them even more special.

Losing track of Harry currently onstage, he lets his mind travel back to the early days. Back then they were barely controllable, never missing an opportunity for a butt slap, a wink, an arm around the shoulder, an ear or cheek grab, or the sly thumbs up sign that held special meaning. Of course, not sly enough for the fans to miss; they were quite sharp. But then again, Louis and Harry probably weren’t as subtle as they thought. How many times did Louis declare a crush for Susan Boyle, or tell the cooking story?? – _chicken, stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in Parma ham, with homemade mash_. And Harry wasn’t much better, sharing a video of being 'rejected’ for not getting to talk to Lou on his birthday, refusing to talk about girls or use female pronouns when discussing even hypothetical partners.

Louis did let the fans and rumors get to him, though. He agreed to tone things down in order to quell the tide and minimize risks. But of course that didn’t stop them entirely from being together, for a while. They just didn’t make as many suggestive comments, kept the glances to a minimum, tried to keep up the facade. And then there were the dark years, when their relationship became strained and then practically non-existent. It’s not pleasant to think about that time, but Louis knows it will always be a part of their story, and will probably serve to strengthen their bond even more. It’s hardly worth thinking about now, though, as Louis would rather focus on how far they’ve come and what the future could hold.

It’s been just a little over a month since he sat in Harry’s house, doing one of the hardest things he has ever had to do. And what a blur it has been. There’s been so much planning, so much organizing, so much Harry… Beyond the various logistical arrangements leading up to today, the hardest undertaking was figuring out how to break the news and work through next steps with his family members, and with Eleanor. There were some painful moments and difficult conversations, and he anxiously wonders how the fall-out will affect the important people in his life, but he doesn’t want to dwell too much on those thoughts. Not now at least, when it all seems like a dream being realized.

One of the easiest parts was Harry getting into the iHeart Radio Music Festival, because of course, it’s Harry. They decided to go big, that if they were gonna do it, they were gonna do it on their own terms and go all in. But now Louis is somewhat regretting that decision, as he stands just offstage, listening to the cheers and screams of the enormous crowd in Vegas. But there’s no turning back now.

Louis thinks of the picture they posted across social media earlier today, them with their arms around each other and hinting at news to come. He’s sure it has already blown up, but he’s made a point not to even look at it until after it’s all done. He remembers the videographer they arranged, waiting near the front of the stage ready to capture the big moment, so they can post it themselves soon after – taking ownership instead of letting it leak, through everyone else’s feeds. He thinks of Niall and Liam, Gemma and Lottie, and other musicians and friends of theirs that are gathered there, waiting to watch from the VIP section…

 _Oh, shit_. Louis tunes in to the roaring applause and wails of the crowd, the lack of music, which means… it’s time. His stomach immediately churns and it feels like his heart has jumped into his throat, and he consciously forces himself to take deep breaths, in and out. He should have prepared himself better, if one can even prepare for something like this. He looks out at the expanse of the stage and sees Harry returning to the mic stand at the center. Harry looks for a moment over to Louis, gives a warm smile and a nod, and Louis nods back.

“Thank you, thank you. Thank you so much,” Harry lets the cheers continue to die down. “So I have one more song for you tonight. And it’s, uh… I actually have a _little_ surprise for you. I have a special guest here with me tonight, someone you _might_ recognize.” Screams. “And he’s gonna join me for my final song.” More and more screams. “Everyone, it is my pleasure to introduce… my. new. _boyfriend_ … Boo Bear!” announces Harry enthusiastically, with a grand sweep of his arm opening to the side where Louis is.

Louis stumbles onto the stage, first a nervous smile and blushed cheeks, eyes blazing at Harry since he didn’t know he was going to use that nickname. And Harry just gives a knowing look along with a beaming smile. But then Louis is blown over by the shocked collective gasp of the crowd followed quickly by deafening screams from all around him. His eyes go big as he looks out, trying to stay calm, sheepishly walking to meet Harry on the stage, hand tightly clutching the mic at his side. The lights of the stage are harsh, something he’s not as used to these days. The raucous howling of the crowd, the instrument noise behind him, the buzz of the speakers, the blinding lights – everything at once creates a sensory overload, too much to take in.

He feels a touch at his wrist, and looks to see that Harry is lacing their fingers together, looks up at Harry standing next to him, and feels a gentle squeeze in his hand. It’s exactly what he needed to gain his equilibrium. He looks into Harry’s face, not even fully registering that this is the first time they’ve ever held hands in public, that Harry just said ‘boyfriend’(!), just focuses on Harry’s eyes and lets himself take it in, relax in his presence, breathe. Harry turns his head to the crowd and starts to chuckle, and Louis follows, growing into a full laugh together. Louis finds release in laughing at the craziness of it all, feeling some of the tension in his body melt away.

Harry drops his hand and grabs his own mic away from the stand. Louis comes to consciousness, looks around and shifts a bit toward the front center of the stage while Harry moves the mic stand over to the side. Louis wills himself to get his bearing, feel the ground beneath his feet, clear his throat, tug at his t-shirt.

“Right, well,” Harry says addressing the crowd again, which is still loud with cries of excitement. He laughs some more then puts the mic to his lips as he walks back over to meet Louis. “Well, so, we’re gonna sing something for you.” He draws it out, trying to let the shrieks die down before saying the important part. “We’ve prepared one of our favorite songs for you, one that has special meaning for us. We’re so thrilled to share this moment with you, and with the world. And so…,” Harry pauses, turning to Louis. “So, what are we gonna sing, Lou?” Again, not planned, but it only takes Louis a moment to get on board, raise his mic while looking back at Harry, “Little Things.”

“Little Things!” yells Harry, raising his arms and turning back to the crowd. The audience is of course not just there for them, not just Harry or 1D fans, but immediately there are screams of recognition, enough to let them know that there are plenty of Directioners in attendance. Louis is delighted for the response. The music starts and even more cries come from the audience, and Louis laughs a little at the immediate reaction, feeling so lucky to have such committed fans.

They did do a rehearsal on the stage, sang the song through, decided some basic blocking. But nothing could have prepared Louis for what it feels like now, with thousands of people watching in the arena, probably hundreds of thousands more watching the live stream online, and he’s about to sing a love song _to_ Harry Styles. They have sung the song countless times before, also with crowds watching, but even with a few glances back and forth, it has never been like this – a deliberate, meaningful duet. Harry turns to face him, and he’s suddenly struck by just how intimate this is, how awkward it might feel, all eyes on them. It seems Harry might be thinking the same thing as he raises his eyebrows and his shoulders, mouth stretched into a silly expression, a physical 'welp.’ Louis responds with a tight nervous smile of his own, and Harry starts in…

“Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me. But bear this in mind it was meant to be. And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks,” at which Harry leans over and pokes a finger in Louis' cheek, causing Louis a quick laugh. “And it all makes sense to me.”

Louis takes a deep breath, stares at the soft grin on Harry's face, and sings, “I know you've never loved the crinkles by your eyes, when you smile, you’ve never loved” – he returns the playfulness by stepping forward and momentarily splaying a hand on Harry’s abs – “your stomach or your thighs.” And Harry plays along by flirtatiously lifting up his shirt a bit while Louis continues. “The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine. But I'll love them endlessly.”

Things get more serious again, though, when they start together, in harmony, “I won't let these little things slip o-oout of my mouth. But if I do, it's you, oh it's you, they add up to. I'm in love with you, and all these little things.”

And there it is. They basically just declared their love for each other for all the world to see, and… it feels really good. Insane, but good. Understandably the crowd is thundering in response. They look intently at each other taking in the brief moment.

Louis takes a breath then breaks away, starting down the extended stage platform that juts far out into the crowd as choreographed, as he starts the next verse. “You can't go to bed without a cup of tea. Maybe that's the reason that you talk in your sle-eep.” Looking out at the audience as he walks and engaging with their faces is actually a welcome change of energy. He’s relaxing into the performance a bit more, feeling the return of his stage legs, and his confidence. “And all those conversations are the secrets that I keep.” At the end of the platform now, he turns to face back where he left Harry on the stage. “Though it makes no sense to me.”

Now it’s Harry’s turn. “I know you've never loved the sound of your voice on tape, you never want to know how much you weigh.” Harry similarly interacts with the audience as he makes his way toward Louis, even pausing to reach out and touch some of the hands lifting up to the edge of the platform. Louis takes the opportunity to turn toward where the VIP area is. He can’t make out anyone, with the distance and all the crazy lights, but he waves anyway, so happy to have them there; and he’s rewarded with frantically waving arms and dark shapes jumping up and down, which makes Louis bounce a bit himself, and bite his lip in gratitude.

“You still have to squeeze into your jeans.” _Oh_. Louis is suddenly face-to-face with Harry, just enough inches between them for Harry’s mic at his mouth, hips pressed against Harry’s and Harry’s arm around him and hand on his ass. “But you’re perfect to me.” And a little squeeze of Louis’ bum. Louis’ mouth goes slack.

Probably seeing Louis’ shocked expression, Harry takes mercy and lets go, but with a big smile. And they continue together, “I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth. But if it's true, it's you, it's you, they add up to,” Harry sings each ‘you’ as ‘Lou’ and Louis can’t help but crack a big smile. As requested, Harry sings the next line on his own. “I'm in love with LOU, and all HIS little things.” Harry sang it like that during rehearsal, too, but it still makes Louis laugh now and shake his head. Harry would sometimes quietly change up the words even back in the day, but he’s so exaggerated with it this time, it’s ridiculous.

Still shaking his head and looking toward the ground, Louis takes the next lines. “You never love yourself half as much as I love you.” He turns to Harry, “You'll never treat yourself right, darling, but I want you to.” Then Harry goes, with some exaggerated gestures, “If I let you kno-ooow, I'm here for you. Maybe you'll lo-oove yourself, like I love you.” And with the ‘you’ he bops Louis on the nose carefully with his finger. Louis scrunches his nose in response.

Harry continues on his own, with the music dropping out behind him. “I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth.” Harry is serious now, looking intently at Louis, causing Louis to freeze in place and swallow hard in his throat. As Harry resumes, Louis notices the hush over the crowd. Usually there are plenty of people singing along to the chorus, but it’s as if everyone is just as enthralled with Harry’s voice as Louis is, and they are listening close. “Cuz it's you, oh it's you, it's you they add up to.” Louis is supposed to come in on the next line but is too wrapped up in the moment that he makes Harry do it alone, the instruments picking back up, “And I'm in love with Lou…” Harry gives a quick confused look then a growing smile, “and all _his_ little things.”

Collected enough, Louis joins in. “I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth.” They harmonize easily together. “But if it's true, it's you (Lou), it's you (Lou)...” Harry keeps saying ‘Lou’ in place of ‘you’ but now instead of laughing it makes Louis’ heart warm inside his chest… “they add up to.” Harry reaches for Louis’ hand, and he offers it graciously. “I'm in love with you (Lou)... and all your (his) little things.”

 _Trailing music_ , stillness, Harry’s eyes…

Explosion. The crowd _erupts_ in the loudest roar Louis has ever heard. It’s definitely enough to stir them out of their intimate gaze. They each turn their heads to look at the crowd in front of them, their faces stunned; then they open up more to look all around. Louis doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it feels as if the room is literally quaking, the thundering sound pounding into his skin. They drop hands and each stumble to a separate half of the circle at the end of the platform. They’re in shock, dazed, turning in all directions to face the audience that is all around them – fidgeting and waving and laughing, shaking their heads, shifting from side to side, touching people’s hands. Louis wonders to himself, _what just happened?_ The crowd is screaming, and he holds one hand to his head, in disbelief that what happened actually did just happen. His whole life changed in the last 10 minutes – he came out to the entire world and admitted he’s in love with Harry Styles. And Harry! Harry just sang his heart out to _him_ , in front of thousands of people.

Just then Louis feels a tug at his elbow and is pulled back to the middle of the platform by Harry, who, he notices, has the biggest, most ridiculous smile across his face. Harry throws his arm around Louis’ back and they stand side-by-side, waving and throwing kisses out to the audience. The wails do not seem to be letting up at all. But Louis is just soaking it in.

It’s impossible to predict the future, especially one following such a monumental beginning. But Louis has a good feeling about it, a really good feeling. Being next to Harry, as unbelievable as it is, just feels right. Louis’ thoughts pull to his mother briefly, imagining how happy she would be for him now, how happy maybe she _is_. All his senses have gone foggy, the noise and the lights all blending together and fading into the background. And he lets himself just swim in this new sensation, this feeling of true happiness… and warmth… and love.

Louis _feels_ Harry looking at him, so he turns his head to face Harry’s. At this Harry breaks into a mischievous grin, then without any warning shifts suddenly and grabs Louis with both arms, pulling him in tight for a kiss. The yells of the crowd must have actually lowered a bit because now they go wild again, as loud as can be. Harry doesn’t let go, but instead swivels Louis and bends him backward, turning it into an over-the-top dramatic Hollywood kiss. And Louis doesn’t mind. He goes right along with it, wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, and kisses him back.

Nope, Louis doesn’t mind. one. bit.

 

: )

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’m probably not the type of person that should be writing One Direction fan fiction, but here I am. I, like many before me, got sucked into the compelling story/possibility of Louis and Harry being together. My inner romantic couldn’t resist shipping after seeing the (convincing) videos. So basically I wrote the story that I wish would become reality. I have been just a casual observer of the 1D members over the years, so I did have to do some extra research to write this. My intent was to remain in canon, to present a version of their past that could be true, and imagine a type of future that could still be possible. I’m sorry, though, if any of the details are off, as I’m sure true 1D fans will be able to pick out. I hope Larry believers can still enjoy the story, and keep on believing (respectfully, of course, for their sake). Thanks for allowing me a platform to get creative, and ship along with the best. Leave love in the comments, if you feel so inclined.


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